


Hard Touch

by LawrenceKinden



Category: Original Work
Genre: Football, Gen, Girl - Freeform, Mud, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-29
Updated: 2015-11-29
Packaged: 2018-05-04 00:13:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5312378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LawrenceKinden/pseuds/LawrenceKinden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Play hard, win hard, and suffer the consequences. [Story Contains Spanking]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hard Touch

It had been a hard fought game. Kids on both sides were battered and bruised. But in the last fifteen seconds of the game, down by three, Sam wasn't about to let those dirty, scum-sucking kids from a few blocks down give them their first loss of the season.

It was supposed to be touch football, but there was an understanding that complainers were crybabies and wouldn't be allowed to play anymore.

Sam had taken her share of hits. Her throwing arm was bruised, and her left thigh had ben slugged more than once. She knew the kids from a few blocks down were dirty players and that they were deliberately going after her leg, she just hadn't expected them to be so obvious about it. Vincent, one of her biggest boys, had offered to clobber the next kid who slugged her, but she'd called him off. She didn't want to be accused of being a crybaby, especially since she was the only girl.

"Huddle up!" Sam shouted. Her boys hurried into the huddle, eager to hear how she was going to eke out a win.

"This will be our last play, boys," she said, trying not to wince, as it hurt to breath. "Here's what I want to see. Aziz should run up the outside, and Kelly lateral buttonhook. I want Jimmy to move behind me for the hand off."

"I'll be in the 'zone before they know it," Aziz said, his bright grin infectious.

Sam slapped him on the rear. "Atta' boy. I'm keeping my options open, everyone on their toes."

"C'mon, ladies, let's go!" Shouted one of the kids from the other team.

Sam was the only girl in the neighborhood to play in inter-block touch-football season and as such, her team was the target of much teasing. The fact that they were, thus far, undefeated gave them the ageis they needed against such teasing.

"Yeah, c'mon," shouted another. "I don't want to be late for kickoff!"

"Yeah, let's go, ladies!"

"C'mon, girls!"

Harry, her other big guy who also served as her center, pounded a fist into his palm. "They're lucky it's touch," he growled.

"Ignore them. The best way to get back at them is to win the game," Sam said.

"Still," said Harry, and he pounded his fist again.

"Okay," said Sam. "Ready?" She received nods all around.

"Break!"

She lined up behind Harry: Aziz and Jimmy on her right, Kelly on her left.

"Hike!"

Aziz sprinted up the line, just like he said he would. Jimmy ran around behind her and she spun and faked a handoff to him. She was ready to toss the ball to Kelly as he turned and looked for it. But Kelly was too well covered by that giant of a thirteen-year-old who had a hint of a beard. So she hurried up behind Harry and looked for Aziz, but the red-headed boy who'd last socked her in the leg and knocked little Aziz down.

And then, as she looked down the field for her options, she realized there was a hole. In a split second, she made the decision. In a burst of speed born of desperation, born of her desire to keep their win streak going, born of a desire to show them all that she could play just as hard, just as well as any boy, she ran for the hole. A few moments later, she was across the imaginary line marking their endzone, her heart thrilling high in her head.

That was it, they had won.

She had slowed to a jog when she was hit from behind. A hard-touch hit her low on her back and hooked into the hem of her shorts. She stumbled, but refused to fall.

Whoever had hit her fell, and her shorts came down with him. She stumbled to a stop, her shorts sliding over her shoes, the chill, autumn breeze of football caressing her naked thighs, kissing through the thin fabric of her sweat-stained panties.

Sam didn't care.

She spiked the football in victory. Her boys raised their fists and shouted and did a little happy dance as was their natures. They rushed her in a spontaneous group hug. Harry and Vincent, lifted her on their shoulders and shouted her praises. No one seemed to care that she'd lost her shorts.

"Samantha Tracy Montgomery!"

Her mother's shout cut over her boys' celebration and their opponents' grumbles of discontent. Harry and Vincent nearly dropped her in their haste to put her down. The boys scattered. Even her own boys, and she didn't blame them. Her mother scared the snot out of every kid in the neighborhood. She was known for her fiery temper and iron discipline. She'd spanked most of them and no boy mocked a spanking from Sam's mom more than once. .

Within seconds, she was abandoned in the field behind the grocery store with only a battered old football, her blue, mud-trampled shorts, and her angry, fist-hipped mother.

"You told me you were going to the mall," her mother said through clenched teeth. "You told me you weren't doing this anymore. You lied to me."

Sam swallowed hard.

"Put your shorts on. We're going home."

Sam bent and grabbed the waist of her shorts and tugged. They'd been trampled into the mud, so she had to tug hard to pull them off the ground. They were thick, heavy, and slimy. She tried to pull them on, but her shoe caught and she stumbled.

Her mother made an exasperated sound. She grabbed Sam's arm and began to pull her away from the field and toward the car. The shorts slipped from Sam's hand.

"Leave them. Come on."

Sam stumbled along behind, acutely aware of autumn chill.

The walk from the field behind the grocery to their house was a short one, but that didn't make it any less embarrassing. She stumbled along behind her mother, her wrist captured in the woman's iron grip. There weren't many people on the street, but those who were stared openly, some grinning, some shaking their heads.

Sam couldn't help the tears that welled in her eyes. It had been months since her parents had spanked her, but surely this would earn her one.

Her mother was first to the door. She opened it and waited for Sam to enter first. As Sam passed, her mother swatted her sharply on her panty-clad bottom. Sam yelped and hurried into the living room where her father was sitting on the couch, a beer in hand, chips and salsa on the coffee table, the pre-game show on the television.

He looked up in mild surprise as his daughter came in, clad only in t-shirt and panties, followed closely by her mother who gave her another stinging swat.

"Tell your father what you did," her mother demanded.

Sam shrunk in on herself. "I was playing football behind the grocery store with the boys."

Her father's eyebrows raised and he looked away from the television. "You promised not to do that anymore."

Sam shrugged. "Sorry, daddy."

He flicked a glance at her mother, trying to suppress a grin.

Behind Sam's back, her mother rolled her eyes at him. "Don't you have anything else to say to her?" her mother demanded.

Her father pursed his lips. "Well… did you win?"

Sam grinned. "Yeah!"

"That's not what I meant," said her mother. "Don't you want to remind her that playing so rough with those boys is dangerous? That it's how she broke her arm last year?"

"Oh, well, yeah," said her father.

"Well?"

For a moment, her father looked confused. "Do… do you want me to say what you just said?"

Her mother threw her hands in the air and stalked off to the kitchen. "Oh, for goodness sake, Frank. Just spank your daughter for lying to us. I don't want to miss kickoff." She stopped at the doorway to the kitchen and turned around. "Sam, do you want a soda?"

Sam nodded uncertainly, not sure if her mom was still mad at her, not certain if she was really in for a spanking. She'd been spanked before, but she loved her mother and father and so avoided getting into trouble with them, except for the fact that she'd lied about playing football.

When her mom was in the kitchen, her father cleared his throat.

"Well, kiddo, best get this over with. You can't lie to us."

Sam turned to face her father. "Would you prefer I just tell the truth about disobeying you?"

Her father shrugged. "Honestly, baby, I just don't want you to get hurt. Right now, you're all about the same size, but soon they're going to be a lot bigger than you, and no matter how tough you are, you could get hurt."

Sam hated to see her father, her tall, strong, handsome father, look at her so sadly.

She hugged him and he hugged her back.

"Sam?"

"Yes, daddy?"

"What happened to your shorts?"

"Oh!" Sam squeaked. She'd forgotten about that.

"Well?" her mother demanded, coming back in from the kitchen. "Did you spank her?"

"Oh, right," said her father. He grabbed Sam by the shoulder, spun her around, and smacked her sharply on the bottom.

Sam yelped.

"How's that?" said her father.

Her mother couldn't help a chuckle. "That hardly counts."

"Well you can do it if you want, but the coin toss is happening now, so you'd both miss kickoff."

"Oh, please mom, can't we do it after the game?"

Her mother grumbled, but sat on the couch with the pretzels, a beer for her and a soda for Sam. Sam joined her, sitting between her parents, unconcerned with her lack of shorts.

"You could have given her a harder smack, you know," said her mother. "I gave her two, it makes me look like the bad guy."

"Hey, she won. I'd have given her a real spanking if she'd lost."

"Hey, really?" said Sam, looking at her father.

He winked at her.

Just as the teams were lining up for the kickoff, her mother nudged her. "Be safe out there, Sam. And don't ever lie to me again."

"Yes, mommy."


End file.
